To My Modest Mistress

Thy beauty shall no more be found

Nor in the marble vault shall sound

My echoing song; then worms shall try

That long preserved virginity,

And your quaint honour turn to dust

And into ashes all my lust.

Quite reserved my coyest lady

Untainted thy body soothe.

For, lady, you deserve this state

Nor would I love at lower rate,

Now therefore while the youthful hue

Sits on the skin like morning dew,

And while thy willing soul transpires

At every pure with instant fires,

Now let us sport us while we may,

And now like am'rous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour,

Than languish in his slow-chapt power

Let us roll our strength, and all

Our sweetness, up into one ball;

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Through the iron gates of life.

Thus though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Hope you enjoyed it? Cheers!

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